Keep Dancing
by Naisa
Summary: Based on the end of the Game of Shadows. Standing on the balcony, Sherlock knows that things are coming to an end, and soon someone will be dead. But the great detective can't plan everything, and someone is about to make a surprise return...One shot.


_This is a one-shot I started writing a while ago based on Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows. I never got round to putting it up but after I got the film on DVD (yay!) and watched it again (and again, and again...) I decided to go back to this story and put it up! _

_It's an alternate ending to the film, in which a character makes a surprising return to Sherlock's life... I don't usually write these sort of things, and my romance is not that good, but I hope it's all right!_

_Special thanks to Fairy Tale Rocker who read this through for me :)_

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Keep Dancing

The constant thunder of the waterfall, hundreds of tons of white, freezing, frothing liquid, sounded strangely distant to Holmes. He stood on the balcony, staring into the eyes of his nemesis, a consulting criminal versus the consulting detective, both the only ones in the world, and soon their careers would become extinct. He could feel Mycroft's 'personal oxygen device' weighing down in his pocket, the only thing that would save him from a lonely, cold death, but his chances of survival were slim. An extra supply of oxygen would be no use if he fell hundreds of feet down onto rocks, or if the freezing waters gave him hypothermia and there was no help nearby.

That was the trouble, that was his curse, he could see everything. And right now he could see Death standing before him, staring right into his eyes, a boned hand beckoning, daring him to come a little closer, daring him to throw himself into the water.

A wave of sadness washed over Holmes at this thought. He had never really been afraid of death, he faced had faced it many times and won, but this time his chances of surviving were running very slim. He would stare Death in the face like he had done many times before and not feel any fear, he just wished that he could live a little longer. There could be so many things that he might miss with his premature walk to eternity, but perhaps this is for the best.

At least his death would not be in vain. This tyrant Moriarty would die with him to, and then Watson and his new wife would be safe, at least the world would be safe for another few years without war tearing it apart. At least...

"Why are out here in the cold boys? You're missing the party."

At least he would be able to see the one he loved again, but perhaps that was coming sooner than he expected.

Sherlock could see the surprise slowly dawn on Moriarty's face, and it probably reflected his own. This wasn't how it was meant to be, this certainly wasn't his plan, and it clearly wasn't Moriarty's either. How could this be? It's not possible...

Both Sherlock and Moriarty slowly turned their heads to see a young woman standing before them in a long, dark red dress, her pale skin heavily contrasted with her dark cascade of brown curls and even darker eyes. Her scarlet lips gave a deceptive smile, and her high heels clicked on the stone floor as she took a step closer.

Irene Adler's eyes glittered despite the dim light as she looked at the two men, who stared at her back, almost horror-struck.

"Sorry, have I come at a bad time?" She said coolly.

It wasn't often that Sherlock was left dumb-struck, but this was turning out to be a very unusual day. He would excuse himself for gaping like a goldfish, he had only known one other person to come back from the dead, but when she had gone, he thought all was lost...

Moriarty too had gone pale, his eyes widened and his mouth hung open, but then suddenly, he smiled, and began to chuckle. "No, don't worry dear, you've come at a very good time. You've just arrived to witness the end of your dear friend Mr Sherlock Holmes, and then I can have the pleasure of sending you to the afterlife with him."

It wasn't often that Sherlock felt such rage rushing through his veins, as he looked down into the cold, heartless eyes of Moriarty. The man probably knew what Adler meant to him, even Watson could work such an obvious thing out. Moriarty had already taken her away from him, but it wasn't enough, he was going to do it again. Sherlock tensed, preparing to strike the man down or do whatever it took, even though the rational part of his mind pointed out that such a thing was pointless, he had a badly injured shoulder that would work against him, and he knew he should never act in rage, it would never let him win.

But Irene responded first.

She took another step forward, but the glitter from her eyes, her beautiful smile, had faded, and instead was a dangerous glare, one Sherlock had never seen before. She glanced down at the seemingly unfinished chess board game.

"That's your problem Moriarty, you think you can play the game every time and win," she told him, "you never even consider if perhaps someone else is playing along? If someone else had their own little game? Well, this is mine. I suppose you always think you hold the right cards in your hands while you play this game of hearts, and all the people around you are just other cards that you can throw away, tearing out their hearts and you're so arrogant you believe they won't come back after you. Well I'm afraid to inform you, that I'm the Queen of Spades*, and I've come back."

Irene stepped closer to Moriarty, closer than she ever would have dared to before she had 'died'. There was no longer fear in her dark eyes that she had when she used to have her meetings with him. But that was when he was in control, now, Sherlock could see that Irene had all the power. So he didn't stop her when she went right up to the consulting criminal, so close she could whisper in the man's ear:

"I lost the game before." She hissed with her red lips. "But I've come back to play again, and this time...I've won."

And before Moriarty could react, she whipped out a dagger Sherlock knew she was always hiding somewhere on her person. She moved so fast all could be seen was a flash of silver through the night, which then embedded itself into Moriarty's stomach.

Moriarty stared, horror-struck, into the face of Irene Adler, who was smiling once again, but it was a horribly dark smile, the way he smiled when he made a kill. A strange gurgling sound came from his lips, but he was too shocked to make words. His hands went to his side, where his white shirt was rapidly turning red. He began to stumble backwards, a stunned look on his face as if he couldn't control his body any more. He was already close to falling off the balcony, he just needed a helping hand.

The face of Moriarty suddenly turned to terrifying rage, and he tried to walk forwards, towards Irene Adler, his hands, soaked in his own blood, reaching out as if to strangle her. Quick as a flash Sherlock threw out his good arm, catching Moriarty by the chest, knocking him backwards, away from Irene Adler.

And tipping him straight over the edge.

At first there was silence as Moriarty plunged downwards. Irene rushed to the edge of the balcony beside Sherlock to see a distant figure tumbling towards the churning water, the wind waving him around like a rag doll.

He must have been half way down before Moriarty remembered to scream, but by the time he did so, it was already too late.

The water was so far below they didn't ever hear a distant splash. There was just an eerie silence, filling the air.

Irene turned to Sherlock, a small smile on her face, she looked relieved as if the world had been lifted from her shoulders. Sherlock found he couldn't stop staring at her, when she noticed this, she laughed.

"You actually look like you're surprised to see me!" Irene said. "Come now, you didn't really think I would let you have all the fun?

Sherlock cleared his throat, and tried to pretend that he wasn't flabbergasted in any way at all. For a man who was used to feeling very little emotions, let alone showing them, they were now exploding like fireworks in his mind. He looked down into Irene's dark, smiling, beautiful eyes, and wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. He was exhausted, confused, amazed and overjoyed all at the same time, because the woman he cared for most in the world, was living and breathing once before him, and he had only just come to terms with the fact that she was dead.

Irene's smile fell when Sherlock's response was nothing but silence. "Are you not pleased to see me?" She asked.

At this, Sherlock threw his arms around Irene and kissed her. Irene was surprised by this sudden rush of emotion and passion, and she didn't realise how much she had truly missed him until his lips were on hers once again.

At that moment, the door the balcony opened, and John Watson rushed in. He stopped and stared at the sight in front of him, mouth hanging open with disbelief, Sherlock wasn't the only one who was finding themselves speechless this evening.

"What the..." John managed to say a couple of disjointed, croaking words, as Irene and Sherlock broke away, grins on their faces.

Irene laughed at John's expression, "What's wrong Doctor? I thought you should know by now I'm full of surprises."

Watson managed to ask a question despite his shock, albeit a short one "Where's Moriarty?"

"He went for a swim," Sherlock said quickly.

"No need to worry though," Irene said calmly, "he won't be coming out the water for a long time. It's good to see you again Dr Watson, but if you don't mind, I think I've had enough of standing out here in the cold, when there's a party indoors." She took Sherlock by the hand and led him off the balcony. Leaving a shocked John to try and work out what had just happened.

Back inside, the building was still full of light, warmth and music as it had been when Sherlock had arrived, a lot of people had dispersed due to the sudden attempt of an assassination and death of one of the ambassadors, even though the musicians continued to play to try and keep the situation calm, so there was plenty of room on the dance floor. Him and Irene strolled in, as if nothing had happened, before taking each other's hands and beginning to dance.

They floated with the soft music for a few minutes before Sherlock spoke.

"How did you do it then?" He murmured in Irene's ear.

"Do what?" Irene didn't understand, or was pretending not to understand, what Sherlock was asking.

"How did you survive Moriarty?" Within the few minutes that she had returned, he hadn't quite worked it out, and the sight of her alive, he was too impatient to try and deduce her methods.

Irene smiled again, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm sorry I had to leave you in the dark for so long, but I'd put you in enough danger to let you know that I was still alive. I knew that Moriarty was going to kill me, that my time was soon going to run out, it did with everyone who came into contact with him. But I wouldn't let that happen to me. When he appeared at the restaurant I knew this was the moment when he was going to kill me. After all, I had failed him, and he was probably bored of my company. I became suspicious as soon as I saw him, and I knew to trust nothing around me. There was something in the tea, when I brought it to my lips I could tell that something was wrong, it didn't...smell right. So I just pretended to take a sip. I took out a knife and hid it under the table as I waited for Moriarty to attack, but he did nothing, he just sat there and talked to me. I could see by the look on his face though that something had already happened, or was meant to happen. There must have been something in the tea. Despite this I knew I had to pretend that whatever was meant to happen had happened, including my death, or else Moriarty would keep on coming after me, and you."

"So you had to convince him that you were out of the picture," Sherlock said.

Irene nodded, "I had to make him convinced that he had killed me with whatever poison was in the tea, so a plan began to form in my mind. I cut my finger with the knife and then used my handkerchief to soak up the blood. As I stood up I put my knife away and began walking away from Moriarty, I could feel his eyes watching my back, he was waiting for something to happen. When I was safely away from him so he wouldn't suspect I was faking it, I started to cough, choking into my handkerchief where the blood stain was. Then I collapsed, dragging a tablecloth down with me for extra effect, and lay as still as possible."

"And Moriarty didn't suspect anything?" Sherlock quizzed.

"The old fool was too cocky to make sure that I was definitely dead. He just left my body on the floor. I could hear him ordering someone to clear up my body, when I was sure he was gone and there was no one else in the room I sneaked away. Whoever was sent to clean up my body would just assume that someone had already done it, they wouldn't want to tell Moriarty that my body had gone missing, or they would suffer the same fate. After that I remained in hiding, trying to keep a track of you and Moriarty. When I heard about this conference I knew this was where Moriarty would be, and you would be here too. I knew I had to kill Moriarty if you or anyone else had any chance of surviving." Despite the fear that gripped Irene whenever she saw Moriarty, despite the fact she had just murdered someone in cold blood, her smile managed to reach her eyes. "Looks like I succeeded." He face fell a little when she saw Sherlock remained expressionless. "I'm sorry that I deceived you."

"I'm more annoyed that you _managed_ to deceive me." Sherlock admitted, his face was straight, but Irene laughed. Trust Sherlock to say such a thing. "You could have told me you were still alive you know, I would have helped protect you."

Irene's face fell, "no you couldn't, not against a man like Moriarty."

Sherlock actually managed a smile, "Well, it's a good thing he's gone now, we have nothing to fear."

Irene Adler nodded, "Very true, but what do you suppose we do now?"

Sherlock Holmes glanced around at the now almost empty room, as the musicians continued to play a quiet, yet hopeful tune for him and his Adler. Death was no longer beckoning, Moriarty was as good as dead, and Irene's warm hands were in his.

"Well we've got the rest of our lives ahead of us," he said, "but for now, let's just keep dancing."

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_*In the card game Hearts, the Queen of Spades is the least wanted card...(Not a great metaphor I know! But I don't know many card games and this one was the best I could think of...)_

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_Well, that's it! Thanks for reading!_

_ I hope you liked it, would love to know what you thought so please review! :)_


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